


Der rote Rock

by Ten_to_Three



Category: Mozart! - Levay/Kunze
Genre: (could be seen as such though not necessarily), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Character Study, Gen, Historical Accuracy, M/M, Pre-Slash, To An Extent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 09:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ten_to_Three/pseuds/Ten_to_Three
Summary: My attempt to reintroduceder rote Rockinto the 2015 production.





	Der rote Rock

'Unlike your height, your waistline hasn't changed. Not a bit,' Mr Daser remarks, comparing Wolfgang's current measurements with previous ones. 'Has your cook not been feeding you well? I'll make sure to leave ample extra material in all your garments so that they can be let out in future when needed.'

'But not too much, Mr Daser!' exclaims Wolfgang, his flailing hands nearly knocking down Mr Daser's inkwell. 'Or the lines might be ruined! And anyway I'll be able to afford new clothes whenever I want them.'

Putting his record book away, Mr Daser looks up at Wolfgang with an avuncular smile tinted with wry. 'Really. Now that we're on the topic of money—last time your father was here, he mentioned His Excellency the late Archbishop's pending appointment of you as Konzertmeister, with a salary attached to the post. From what you just said, I take it the decision still stands?'

'Archbishop Colloredo put the appointment into effect right after he took up residence.' Wolfgang's not-so-wide chest puffs up with pride, not only because of his new job, but also that the Archbishop approved the appointment before even meeting him, which proves Wolfgang Amadè Mozart's reputation precedes his person.

To Wolfgang, the same can be said about Archbishop Colloredo.

'A music-loving prelate, a fellow German of yours, should have been in attendance today,' Cardinal Pallavicini said to him after his performance before the Pope at the church of Santa Maria Maggiore years ago. 'It's a pity that some urgent business demands his attention. He'd have especially enjoyed your violin sonatas, as he plays the instrument too—not at your level of expertise, but still quite good.'

'Does the prelate happen to be His Excellency, Bishop Colloredo, Your Eminence?' his then-self asked the kind Cardinal.

'Why, yes. Bishop Colloredo of Gurk. I gather you must have already met him in your native land?'

'No, I haven't, Your Eminence. The Bishop's father His Excellency the Imperial Vice-Chancellor once welcomed my family into his Viennese palace. I heard during the visit that his clergyman son, who was absent then like he is today, is an accomplished violinist. With the help of this knowledge I made an educated guess.'

'Great patrons of music with a good taste are few and far between, more so on the other side of the Alps. For your sake, my little Cavalier, let us hope the young bishop will one day ascend to a lofty position that requires a grand musical household.'

And now Hieronymus von Colloredo has achieved that ascension. That the musical Bishop is to become Salzburg's next Prince-Archbishop is nothing short of a case of dream-come-true for Wolfgang. Rumours about the new Archbishop's difficult personality and his high standards for those in his employment do not concern Wolfgang in the least—he is confident that his talent will secure a good rapport between himself and the prince-connoisseur; as for standards, Wolfgang Amadè Mozart always aims for better than the best.

'Self-supporting young man,' Mr Daser's voice cuts into Wolfgang's thoughts, 'when you need new clothes again, take pity in this poor old tailor and pay your bills on time. Don't end up like those Sirs bearing the title of "Gracious".'

'Mr Daser, being barely older than my father and the best tailor in Salzburg, you're nowhere near "old" or "poor"! And don't you worry, Wolfgang Amadè Mozart is nothing like them—', Wolfgang's already puffed chest puffs up even further, '— I'm a Cavalier of the Order of the Golden Spur created by the Pope, outranking Gluck!'

Half-mockingly and half-indulgingly, Mr Daser makes a tiny bow. 'My sincere apologies, Your High Well-born, Ritter von Mozart, for associating you with that lowly sort.' He then picks up his engagement book from the desk and opens it. Chalk-stained index finger tracing a column of notes inside, he continues, 'I'm afraid your first fitting has to wait until the week after the next—as you can see, we're quite busy these days, with the new Archbishop's solemn installation approaching. Nevertheless, rest assured. I'll have your suit ready in time for the ceremony.'

'Thank you, Mr Das—' Halfway slipping into his coat, Wolfgang catches the sight of a mass of bright red and gold peeking out from a half-closed chest against the wall. 'What's that?'

'It's a coat of Archbishop Colloredo's that he no longer needs. I bought it—along with several other articles of clothing—directly from his valet, so as to study His Excellency's sartorial taste.'

'May I have a look?'

'Ever so curious.' Mr Daser takes the brilliant bundle out and lays it on his large cutting table.

It is a justaucorps made of scarlet silk velvet, with an inner lining of silk twill of the same colour. Elaborate gold embroidery in spangle-centred floral patterns decorates its collar, front, pocket, cuffs, and back vent. The splendour of the garment is enhanced by a wealth of thick gold lace. All the buttons, front and back, are embroidered with gold files, echoing the overall golden floral motif.

'This coat looks a lot like the one given to me by the Empress.' Wolfgang runs his fingertips down the coat's magnificent embellishment, savouring the sensation that reminds him of the glittery world of Vienna.

'Indeed, except for the lace. I've never seen gold lace with such pattern before,' observes Mr Daser with professional interest.

Wolfgang gives the lace in question a closer look. To his surprise, its rope-like pattern seems vaguely familiar. Where did he see it before? Ah, yes—

'It's quite fashionable among the English—I saw it adorning both civilian and military clothing when I was in England.'

'Sometimes I forget how well-travelled you are, young Mr Mozart.'

'I'd like to buy it,' Wolfgang blurts out the thought as it flashes across his mind. Although the idea comes to him most suddenly, when he hears his own words he knows he does mean it.

'How many feet? Lace like this would go nicely on—'

'I was talking about the coat, Mr Daser, not the lace.'

Mr Daser's eyes widen to the size of saucers. 'The coat! The rods of lace on this coat alone would cost the better part of your annual salary!'

'I've got the money.' Wolfgang fishes out from his pocket the stack of notes inside.

'Good Gracious! Where did you get three hundred gulden?!'

'I won it from Count Arco's younger son earlier today.' A grin spreads across Wolfgang's face as he relives his glorious win over the nasty lordling in billiard.

'Your father—'

'Let me worry about my father, Mr Daser,' Wolfgang cuts him off as he places all the money on the table. Before the shocked Mr Daser can say another word, he gathers the coat into his arms and rushes out the tailor shop, heading straight home.

* * *

'It's exactly the same coat as the one you used to wear, only bigger!' cries Nannerl as Wolfgang shows her his newly acquired coat. But then her smile falters. 'A lot bigger...'

'And what's wrong with that?' Wolfgang asks while putting the coat on. 'It needs to be a lot bigger than my previous one; otherwise it wouldn't fi—ah.' Noticing how the coat's shoulder seams fall to his upper arms, and that the rich fabrics draping from his shoulders almost give off the impression of a cape, he finally realises what his sister meant. 'Oh blast!' utters Wolfgang, throwing his head back in frustration. He recalls Archbishop Colloredo's appearance during the Te Deum celebrating his election. Who would have guessed the myriad layers of the full regalia of the man of God hid so robust a physique?! Had God not bestow upon him the gift of music, Wolfgang imagines he would find the well-formed, learned, and high-born Archbishop quite enviable.

'Don't be upset, brother dear.' Nannerl's excitement returns in full force. 'All we need is to have it adjusted by Mr Daser, and then destiny's prince will have a coat worthy of him! You can wear it to courts across Europe, Versailles, Buckingham House, Hofburg…'

Infected by Nannerl's upbeatness, Wolfgang adds, 'Just like in the old days!'

'Yes, just like in the old days—you, me, Papa and Mama together!'

Laughing and jesting, Wolfgang and Nannerl reminisce about the treasured episodes of their family's grand tour around Europe. Somewhere at the back Wolfgang's mind, a voice that very much resembles Papa's points out he has yet to produce the score for the violin concerto to be presented to the Archbishop tonight. He pays it little heed. After all, the piece is completed—not merely completed, but polished to perfection in his head. At the Te Deum, Kappelmeister Lolli gave an Apollo the din that belongs to Vulcan's forge. This concerto shall show the Archbishop that, with Wolfgang Amadè Mozart here, Salzburg can offer its prince music that outshines anything Vienna boasts. Soon, he will commit his work to staves. Very soon. There is still time. Just let him and Nannerl mess about for a little while more…

'Wolfgang, where are you?' Papa's voice wafts from the hallway.

Wolfgang runs towards his direction, Nannerl at his heels. '_Bonsoir, mon Père! _How do you find my _justaucorps rouge et or_?'

**Author's Note:**

> The 'Sirs bearing the title of "Gracious"' Mr Daser speaks of are petty nobility in Salzburg at that time who insisted to be addressed according to social etiquette as 'Gnädige Herrn (Gracious Sirs)'. They led a parasitic lifestyle subsisting on (relatively) meagre annuity issued by the court, deeming any involvement in trade or business beneath them and their offspring.
> 
> ~
> 
> The fic is unbetaed. I apologise in advance for any mistake. All forms of feedback are most welcome. They make me a happy, happy writer and keep me going. <3  



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